


The Reaping

by Maleficent265



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: A Broken Nightwing, Action, Angst, Arkham City Kind Of Feel, Background Character Death, Disturbing Sequences, Drama, Drug and Alcohol Use, F/M, Fluff, Hero Angst, Innuendo, Language, OC, Overall Crassness, Romance, Violence, age gap, possible ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maleficent265/pseuds/Maleficent265
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to cope with Wally’s death, Dick Grayson quit the Justice League and had every intention of dropping off the map.  But two years later, and an invitation to a party at Wayne Manor has him heading to Gotham and putting his life back together with the help of Batman and his newest protégé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reaping

He hated This city… 

Looking down into his champagne class, Dick realized that he had made a terrible mistake; he _never_ should have returned to Gotham. He was standing near the entrance to the Manor’s ballroom, unsuccessfully trying to remain inconspicuous but that was difficult for the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, the richest philanthropist and tomcat in Gotham. There were dozens of unwelcome reporters lined at the gates, trying to interview party guests and snap distant photos of _him_ …

The whole city was talking about it but that was expected, what with the immediate fame he had inherited after moving into Wayne Manor at the tender age of nine. And now, after two years of absence, Richard Grayson had returned to Gotham. The news was full of rumors and speculations on the meaning behind it. Maybe he had returned to take a high-office position at Wayne Enterprises, next to Bruce himself. Perhaps he was in some sort of trouble and needed to crawl back to _daddy_ to borrow money. Or maybe he just missed being home…

None of the above.

He was there out of guilt and guilt alone.  The truth was, he had done a piss-poor job of running away.  Bruce, being a top-notch detective with an overwhelming amount of money stored away, was able to pluck him out of hiding as if he stuck out like a sore thumb.  It was probably Dick’s own fault for choosing an obvious location to harbor himself so he could wallow in pain and self-doubt.  Keystone City, Nebraska…  Birthplace of Wally West.  Where else would Dick go? _Of course,_ Bruce found him.

There was a part of him that wanted to look after Rudolph and Mary, Wally’s parents, and he supposed that was the driving force that compelled him to grab a shitty apartment in the lower ring of Keystone to carryout his self-given penance and watch his best friend’s parents mourn the loss of their _only_ child.  The thing about it was, he almost enjoyed the pain – felt as if he deserved to watch them suffer - it was his way of coping with the grief.  It was his punishment for failing Wally, his parents… _Artemis._  He was meant to endure this – to agonize over them – to die a little inside every time he laid eyes on Rudolph or Mary.  It was an outlet.

But it was only part of an outlet.

For the last two years, Dick had surrounded himself in bad habits.  He started gambling, drinking, and even worse than that, he had developed a liking for Vertigo… A very powerful drug from Star City.  He wouldn’t say he was _addicted_ to these things, but he would undeniably hate to give them up.  It was just easier to shoot up with Vertigo than it was to admit the fact that Wally was never coming back and it was entirely _his_ fault.

_“Hi there…”_

Dick looked away from the glass in his hand to set his sights on the woman who was now standing next to him.  She was wearing a crimson, floor-length, ball gown with a slit that ran all the way to her hip. Any freckle she had was hidden beneath a fine layer of foundation. Her long, blonde hair was pulled into a characteristic bun at the base of her skull. She looked like something that came straight out of a magazine.

“Hi.”  He returned with a smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”  She asked, tucking a strand of light hair behind her ear.  From the tone in her voice, she clearly knew that he wasn’t; he’d rather be back in Keystone drowning himself in whiskey.  And he would be if his gambling debts hadn’t been mysteriously waved… He had feeling Bruce had something to do with that because shortly after, he got an invitation to attend tonight’s party, which he begrudgingly accepted.  Dick may have taken up questionable hobbies but it didn’t make him any less of the detective that he was when he was Robin.  

 _“Absolutely.”_  He lied.  It was the guilt.  He never would have showed up if it hadn’t been for those debts.

She wrapped her perfectly manicured hand around his forearm and leaned toward his ear.  “I’m not.”  She purred.  “Wanna get out of here?”

Dick smirked and eyed her.  He could definitely do worse than a leggy blonde tonight…  She was certainly pretty; dark makeup lining her sharp, blue eyes, her plump lips covered in pale, pink lipstick, and she smelled damn-near like peaches.  If memory served him correctly, he had a permanent room on the third floor and could easily drag her upstairs for a quick round before seeing her off in the morning.

But if he left now, before Bruce actually had a chance to talk with him, his former mentor would probably suit up as Batman and kick his door in while he was in the middle of getting off.  There were about a thousand different awkward scenarios swimming around in his head and none of them seemed worth the reward even if she was drop-dead beautiful.  But he was Richard Grayson, which was probably the reason she had approached him in the first place, and he could easily have any woman in this room at anytime.  Including her.

“I can’t tonight.” Wrapping an arm around her slight waste, he dug his fingers in the chiffon material above her trim hip and pulled her to him to lightly bump his lips against her jaw.  “Rain check?”  He buzzed quietly next to her ear.

She looked rather disappointed but hid it well behind a polished smile and placed a hand over his to untangle his fingers from her hip before he had a chance to wrinkle the gown.  She pushed away and unclasped the fastening in her hand-clutch to dig around for a contact card.  Between two fingers she handed it to him.  “Sure, then.  Give me a call, Grayson.”

Dick took the card and glanced down at the name for future reference: _Reeta Summers – Wayne Enterprises._

“Will do.”  He assured her, tucking it into his jacket. “Miss Summers.”

Leaning in, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek and sauntered off toward the foyer behind him, making sure to shoot him an inviting look before making her way out of the ballroom.

With a smirk, and probably too much confidence, Dick turned and almost immediately noticed _another_ female…  She seemed a bit detached but she was within earshot and staring at him none the less.  Clearly she had been waiting for him to finish flirting so she could have a turn…  

So it was going to be _that_ kind of night.  Not that he minded.  Hiding out in a grungy, Keystone apartment didn’t exactly entice the ladies.  But here in Gotham, Dick was a legend.  By the time he hit age eighteen, he had more admirers than he knew what to do with…  Naturally, aside from Bruce, he was Gotham’s biggest playboy.  And apparently, in the two years he had been gone, things hadn’t changed.

Curling his lip appreciatively, Dick eyed her.  Unlike the last, she was wearing something a little less revealing – a powder blue dress that was loose and light but still flattering – hanging just above her knees.  She obviously spent most of the summer in the sun, judging by her skin and the natural highlights in her light brown hair.  

“Nice legs.” He blurted, nodding his head towards her gown.

Pursing her lips, she raised an eyebrow before scrunching her nose as if she was turned off by the complement.  

 _Right_ … Maybe a few women out there didn’t want to necessarily flirt with him.  She was either too shy to jump into anything or had different intentions.

 _"Sorry.”_ He stated quickly.  “That might have come off as a little-“

 _“You_ must be Richard Grayson.”  She was very sure of herself.

“How did you guess?”  Dick asked with a smile.

“It wasn’t easy.  I’m not used to seeing you sober.”  She bit.  Her frosty eyes traveled over him from head to toe before she stated,  “Nice suit by the way.”

He glared at her. “What do you mean _sober?”_

She glanced hastily to the champagne glass in his hand and narrowed her eyes. "You know..."

And yes, Dick knew.  The only thing he ever did back in Keystone, was _drink._  But how on earth did _she_ know that?

“Do I know you?”

“No…  But I know exactly who _you_ are."

He scoffed.  Batman’s old sidekick and a former member of the Justice League; she had no idea…

“You’d be surprised.”  He gruffed.

“You’re Richard Grayson.”  She stated, crossing her arms over her chest.  A smirk snaked over her mouth and she leaned toward him slightly.  “Or should I call you, _Nightwing?”_

If he had been caught off guard, he didn’t show it.  He was good at this by now; random people accusing him and Bruce of being Gotham’s guardians.  It made sense.  All the expensive toys Batman had; it was logical for people to assume Bruce Wayne was either funding the vigilante or he was the man himself.  This girl was among the smarter percent of Gotham and had put two and two together.  

“That freak with the mask?” Dick snorted…  “Sorry, but I have better things to do with my time than run around Gotham in the middle of the night.”

“Right… Like spying on the West family?”

Dick looked directly at her.  She knew more than he had anticipated and he wasn’t sure how to get out of this conversation.  She may have been _cute,_ but she was turning out to be more trouble than she was worth.

He forced a smile and said,  “I think you and I might have gotten off to a bad start.  Can I get you a drink?”

Her already large eyes widened before turning her gaze down to the glass in his hand.  “Champagne.”

“Here.” Dick handed her his glass.  She took it slowly and looked at him.  “I didn’t drink out of it.”  He told her.  “I swear.”

Shooting him a look, she smirked and placed the glass against her lips, only to have someone from behind her speedily wrench it away, “I’ll take that.”  He said quickly as he stepped around her to face Dick.

Bruce Wayne was dressed in a suit and tie with his hair combed perfectly.  He held Dick’s glass tightly and stared disapprovingly at the pair of them.  She opened her mouth to say something but was quickly cut off after Bruce held his hand up to silence her.

 _“Dick,”_ He started as if he was surprised to see him.   “I’m glad you could make it.  And I see you’ve met my new protégé.”

“Protégé?!   _She’s_ your protégé?”  He was stunned.  But that explained how she knew so much about him.

“Lennox Heron.”  She said with a smirk before looking back to Bruce.  “Could I have my drink back?”

“No…”  Came his firm answer.

“Dick said I could have it... And he’s technically my legal guardian.”

“Dick wouldn’t have given it to you had he known you were _underage._ ”

Oh, _perfect!_  This was turning out to be a shitty night after all.

"Yeah..." He scoffed. "She failed to mention that."

"Aren't you supposed to be some sort of detective?" She countered.

Dick glared. "Isn't it passed your bedtime?"

"Someone's got to hang around to make sure you don't go running back to Keysto-"

"Enough, Lennox." Bruce growled, narrowing his eyes at her before turning his stare to Dick. "As for you; we can talk about the disappearing act you've been pulling for the last two years, but right now, you and I have business to discus."

 _"Now?"_ Dick asked, jerking his thumb back toward the ballroom. "Don't you have a party to host?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, then."

"I hadn't planned on hanging around that long."

"Why not?" Lennox interrupted. "Are you heading back to the lower-ring to sulk?"

"What crawled up _your_ ass?"

Bruce huffed... "Why don't you two just turn in for the night. I think I can handle these investors on my own."

That was fine... Dick didn't necessarily want to be there anyway.

"See you tomorrow, then."

"I guess I don't have much of a choice." Dick shrugged.

If Bruce had been offended by his tone, he didn't show it... They watched their mentor walk back toward the heart of the party and quickly turned to go their separate ways. Lennox was hunched over in a pout and stalking off toward the kitchens while Dick made his way for the staircase, never bothering to glance back.

*~*

Richard Grayson's room hadn't changed. It smelled oddly fresh considering it had been closed up for the last two years but he just took that as an indication that Alfred had been keeping things tidy... The bed was still covered in the same dark blue duvet,  whatever clothes he had left behind were still folded neatly in their drawers or hanging in the walk-in, and aside from Pennyworth moving his things around to dust, everything was generally untouched.  

It was eerie...

With the exception of his bedroom, everything else in the Manor had either been renovated or redecorated. It was like this particular room had been frozen in time. Dick huffed before tossing his duffle to the end of the bed. He supposed that was strangely symbolic... Dick himself had been frozen in time ever since Wally West's death. Everyone else had moved on, even Artemis... But everyone else wasn't responsible for the death of their best friend. Most people didn't understand what it was like to carry that weight around for the past two years.  And it had been the driving force behind his decision to quit the Justice League.

He hadn't looked back until those debts - until that invitation- and probably never would have.

Dick dropped himself next to his duffle before shrugging himself out of his suit jacket and quickly unzipped the top of his bag to rummage through his T-shirts.  At the very bottom, folded between his jeans, was small box filled with three small vials and a syringe. Quickly popping the top, he loaded the needle and began rolling his sleeve up past his elbow. A couple seconds later, he was shoving the point of the syringe through his arm and shooting up with another quick round of Vertigo. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly as the sensation of the drug enveloped him and clouded his senses. It made him feel better.  Just a little.

And then, just as he opened his eyes, he looked toward his door to see a powder-blue figure standing in the hall... Lennox Heron was staring into his dark room with a pinched brow.  They were completely silent as they regarded one another.  

She watched him carefully; her eyes roving over the prick of the needle as he held it in place. Lennox had been quick-witted enough back at the party, so why hadn't she bothered to say anything now? Judging by the curl in her lip, she was disgusted by the sight of Dick Grayson shooting up...  And there was no way to deny that.  She had _seen_ him - caught him in the act - he wasn't about to lie his way out of it.

"Lennox," He started, groggily as he withdrew the needle. "Listen... Please don't tell him, okay?"  

Still frowning, she glanced away from the syringe and quickly met his gaze. "What makes you think he doesn't already know?"  

With that she turned and drifted away. Dick tossed the needle onto his nightstand and continued staring out his door until he heard her close herself off inside a distant bedroom down the hall.

She seemed disgusted, yes, but not overly surprised... He was an idiot if he thought Bruce Wayne didn't know absolutely everything he's been doing over the last two years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Reading! Please don't forget to follow and review... :)


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